


Never a Lady Fairer

by PreludetoElysia



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Blind Cordelia, F/F, Fluff and Angst, but also Supreme delia, hickies and healing, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 11:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20226814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreludetoElysia/pseuds/PreludetoElysia
Summary: Title inspired from The Rolling Stones’ “She’s a Rainbow”.





	Never a Lady Fairer

White. Everything around her was white again after Misty had dissolved into nothing in her arms. It was the same white that had plagued her before her wild-haired love had stepped through the doors of the academy seeking protection.

She missed the streaky mud trails that dried into greenish-browns on the tiles in the early evenings. She missed the pretty blooms that were arranged delicately on her bedside table, each with a different meaning that brought a smile to her lips. She missed being dragged outside after rainfall to experience rainbows through Misty's touch. Even after being announced Supreme, she still felt Misty’s absence deep in her chest, curling around her lungs and heart. No more Stevie blasting from behind the girl's door. No more quick retorts to Madison's crude comments.

She missed some kind—any kind—of evidence of Misty's life.

The reddish pink of her blush, her swollen lips after spending too long in the sun or in the headmistress's lap—all of it transfixed Cordelia.

When the seasons changed and the Earth shifted once more, like the colors of the Ginkgo leaves, Misty would offer her hand to Cordelia. She might drag her into the piles of strewn foliage, tickle the woman's cheeks with thin stems. Cordelia would have utilized this moment of Sight to study Misty smiling her brightest smile, like everything was okay in the world, like there wasn't a chance that she could be depended upon by a whole coven after the test. But when it wasn't okay, and the pressure came creeping back, Cordelia would take matters into her own hands.

She spent some nights weaving her fingers gently through the golden yellow blonde of the witch's tousled hair while she wept. She still remembers the soft  _ I don't want to _ ' s whispered into her chest. Cordelia wanted to play with her locks forever, to soothe the pain. She had wanted what was best for Misty and the girls. Now, with her Supreme sight, she sat and watched the leaves flutter and fall, twisting with her thoughts. If she slept, she dreamt of messy blonde.

Their happiness was shared in the greenhouse among the flora—Cordelia, a gentle master, and Misty, an eager student. Misty had encouraged the flowers to thrive and flourish in ways others could not. She cared for them and visited them more frequently than the headmistress herself. Cordelia's love had blossomed deeply alongside the juvenile plants.

Often, Misty’s blue eyes would stare up at her, yearning for confirmation and pride. Her excited, pretty pools lit up whenever Cordelia explained her plans for them that day, knowing she would gladly follow the woman anywhere. It was moments like those—when Cordelia taught her new things, or congratulated her on a success—that were her favorite.

Some nights left splotchy bruises and bites on the planes of Misty's neck and chest to be exposed later by the light of the sun in the morning. The affectionate marks were paralleled onto Cordelia's own body, and she always gladly accepted Misty's offering of color.

Misty was every hue, every tone and tint and shade, and Cordelia could see her make better of life in her presence.

So when Misty materialized there, whole and alive on the floor of that dreaded place, Cordelia saw in technicolor.

**Author's Note:**

> find me being gay on tumblr @ preludetoelysia :))


End file.
